Robb Stark
“Gods, will this heat never end?”
He couldn’t help but let out a laugh at the state of his bastard brother, doing his best to revel in Jon Snow’s suffering. Once, Robb too had suffered in this southron heat, as had many of his bannermen who marched south with him for the war.
But moons spent sweating his balls off while donning armor had forced him to get accustomed to it. And now it was time for him to enjoy the experience of another Northman experiencing it for the first time.
“I’m afraid not. But don’t worry, you’ll have plenty of time to make up for it by freezing your balls off at the wall.”
Jon shot him a foul look, which was ruined by his red-faced and sweaty appearance. “It must be your southron blood that lets you survive this unbearable heat!”
“Nope. It was the days spent in armor under the scorching sun that did it. It was even hotter then, not on the precipice of winter as we are now.” It had actually begun to regularly snow up North, but one would never guess that in the heart of the Reach as they were now. “You should’ve seen some of the other Lords. I could swear the amount of sweat the Greatjon produced was enough to fill a small lake.”
“Ugh.” Jon scowled at the sky, as if trying to make the weather change under the force of his glare. “And what of Father and Harry? Did they struggle too?”
“Father said he had to custom order an entire wardrobe after arriving in King’s Landing, claiming his old one was too heavy. His household guards had to do similarly to stay cool.” Robb said. “As for Harry… I don’t think the heat bothered him at all.”
“Figures.” Jon grumbled with some irritation, which he shared. It seemed their bastard cousin was never bothered by the climate, whether it be scorching heat or freezing cold.
“His wife is from Dorne after all.” Robb shrugged. “I would pity him if he had to brave the Dornish desert with no defense against this heat.”
Jon paled. “Gods, and to think we aren’t even that far south…”
He couldn’t help but laugh again. “Just think brother, maybe I should take you from the Watch and marry you off to some southron Lady? You can spend the rest of your days ruling some keep here in the Reach.”
The war had killed enough Lords that there were plenty of noblewomen either widowed or without fathers or brothers to inherit down south. Those ladies were desperate to marry so their familial lands wouldn’t be annexed by a more powerful House, and plenty of second or third sons from across the seven kingdoms were rising in peerage as they married into nearly-extinct Houses within the Reach.
Or, at least what was left of the Reach. House Florent had finally earned themselves their desired position as a great house, taking Highgarden and ruling what was left of the Reach. It wasn’t much, with House Fossoway and House Rowan being their only notable surviving vassals. The rest had been gobbled up and annexed by the rest of the surrounding Kingdoms.
The Iron Islands took the Shield Islands, with House Redwyne going extinct. Next, the Westerlands took those along the Ocean Road in the northern parts. After them, the Stormlands and Riverlands partitioned off those north of Bitterbridge, with Uncle Edmure finally getting the recognition he so desired by expanding his borders.
And finally, Dorne took the south, annexing Starpike down to Oldtown. That was where his bastard cousin was, having extinguished House Hightower and formalized a marriage to Arianne Martell to cement his position.
Even Robb would admit it was a massive rise in power to go from northern bastard to the Lord of such a grand seat. But there was no one with enough power to formally resist such a move. Especially when one of Lord Stark’s last moves as Hand was to permit it, along with the approval of Doran Martell, and few could challenge two Lords of Great Houses.
And to make things more complicated, Tywin Lannister had died of his wounds soon after the war ended. His successor, Kevan Lannister, was too occupied consolidating his House’s gains and dealing with Westerland politics to bother dealing with those of King’s Landing. And so House Lannister found itself stretched thin, not holding enough influence in court as they once did.
It wasn’t helped that whatever political capital they had was mostly spent by the Queen Mother, pushing Ned Stark out of the Red Keep and finding a new Hand. Robb’s father had vowed never to go south unless absolutely necessary in the aftermath, finally exhausted from the relentless politics and games that the southerners played.
That said, the Warden of the North had the last laugh as he managed to score lower taxes for Northern imports, as well as a veritable mountain of loot taken from the Reachmen that they plundered in the war. The North couldn’t annex parts of the Reach as a reward for fighting after all, so had to take their reparations in other ways.
Then came Stannis Baratheon, which from what Robb had heard, bad become a major power player in court. His Florent wife ensured that he had the backing of the Reach - not that it was much - and he had taken over Renly’s position as warden of the Stormlands from Storm’s End.
While having never met the man, Robb was aware of his infamously severe disposition. Last he heard, Cersei Lannister’s hair had nearly turned white from dealing with Stannis, finally finding someone she couldn’t seduce or bribe with Lannister gold if the rumors were true. That said, another set of rumors from the capital whispered that King Tommen was in talks to marry Shireen Baratheon, and that the two got along splendidly.
They crested a hill with the rest of the column containing their retinue then, looking more like an army on the march rather than a Lord’s simple escort. A huge amount of men-at-arms akin to a small sellsword company in size had been entrusted to him, ensuring his and Jon’s safety on the journey south.
The Reach was no longer the safest part of the seven kingdoms after all, filled with men that had turned to banditry as the war ended. Tens of thousands of men within Renly’s host had been butchered, and many that survived and returned home found said homes burned or already looted by invaders.
Something on the horizon caught his attention, as Robb looked high in the sky, then higher still, eyeing the large tower in the distance. It was unmistakable what that building was, along with the large sprawling city below it.
“It’s even taller than the wall.” Jon noted with some awe at his side.
“Aye.” Robb said breathlessly, eyeing the flame at the top of the Hightower.
/////
The guards at the gates leading into Oldtown took time to process their group along with sending word for their accommodations and telling Harry of their arrival.
Sadly, a large number of smallfolk also waited in line at the gate, yet few were given entry. Robb had learned that thorough vetting and records were kept for each individual, as Oldtown’s new Lord zealously tried to protect the city’s occupants from potential criminals trying to enter.
It was a momentous undertaking to undergo such a process, not to mention costly based on the parchment and manpower required, yet the Lord of Oldtown seemed to be especially wealthy.
Eventually, the gates opened, allowing them passage.
The first thing he noticed was that the city didn’t smell like King’s Landing, as his father had told him of many times. Its streets were cleaner than those of Wintertown or White Harbor, the ocean breeze drifting between buildings as its occupants roamed the roads casually. Not only that, but there wasn’t a speck of garbage or shit in sight, the paths impeccably maintained for cleanliness.
“I can see why your Watch brother would stay here for so long.” His words made his brother hum in agreement.
It was the excuse Robb used to drag Jon south with him, given leave by Lord Commander Mormont to bring Samwell Tarly back to the Watch. The boy had been sent south to be trained as a Maester after Maester Aemon died at Castle Black, yet had overstayed his stay.
And if the journey south just so happened to coincide with his bastard cousin’s wedding… Then Robb would say it was just a simple coincidence.
“Aye.” Jon admitted, eyeing a group of Citadel novices walk out of a building with freshly printed books in hand.
They eventually reached the harbor, and winded along the sea wall and past more walls and finally over a bridge to enter the main courtyard for Harry’s keep. The base of the Hightower stood before them, so tall that Robb could no longer see its top by looking up.
Guards greeted them and led them inside to the base of the immense lighthouse, finding an ornate interior that used to be decorated by banners belonging to House Hightower. Some of those decorations were still present, such as the seven-pointed star and various green carpets, but it was only a matter of time till they were removed.
The main hall was busy, as servants, guards, and learned men of all sorts scrambling back and forth busily. Oddly, a fat boy in Maesters robes seemed to get his brother’s attention then. Robb couldn’t help but note the insane amount of Maesters links the boy had forged, his chain wrapping around his neck thrice.
“Sam!” Jon called.
“J-Jon?” The fat boy, Samwell Tarly, stuttered out. He then looked over to see Robb, and blanched. “L-Lord Stark…”
“So this is the Night’s Watch brother you were searching for?” Robb questioned, which only seemed to make Sam more pale.
“By the seven, to think you came all this way for me...” Sam looked ashamed. “I feel like I haven’t been here all that long, to be honest.”
“Not just for you, but also for my cousin’s wedding.” Jon replied. “The Lord Commander grows tired of your dawdling, Sam, and your time here has come to an end.”
Whatever fear Samwell Tarly had was replaced by sadness in that moment, the boy slumping over in defeat. “I guess nothing lasts forever, a shame my stay here had to come to an end.”
“Aye.” Robb remarked. “But what are you doing here anyways? The Hightower isn’t part of the Citadel.”
“Ah! Lord Ha- Potter has me working under him for some tasks. Quite brilliant, your cousin is, if a bit odd in the Ladies he keeps around.”
“Ladies he keeps around, eh?” Both Robb and Jon shared a knowing grin. “How so?”
“N-Not really my place to say anything, my Lord, just that a man can’t help but notice.” Sam blushed. “Those two red priestesses are always present in court, as is the captain of his guard, Val, as well as Princess Arianne and her Handmaidens. There’s also Lady Malora, whose always at his side these days.”
His bastard cousin being a womanizer was one of the worst kept secrets in the Realm. Robb still remembered the cadre of women that Harry showed up with at Harrenhal at the beginning of the war, and it seemed his harem had only grown in size since. It wasn’t really surprising, considering his Dornish Princess of a wife, as the Dornish were known for their promiscuous ways.
“Aye, I remember Val, as well as the Lady Ashara.” The blonde warrior woman had been one of the most beautiful women Robb had ever seen, tall and gorgeous with a fit body that went with big teats. As for Ashara Dayne, the Lady of Starfall was known as the most beautiful woman in the realm for a reason, and Robb could only assume she acted as Princess Arianne’s handmaiden.
“Did you know Val used to live North of the Wall?” Sam asked excitedly, before turning to Jon. “She even knew Ygritte!”
Jon Snow blushed brighter than Robb had ever seen, and he couldn’t help but laugh. “Ygritte, huh? Who is this woman that my brother fancies?”
“No one!” His brother said quickly, before shooting a glare at Sam.
“She and Jon are quite close, and she saved him during his first ranging.” Sam didn’t seem to notice Jon’s deadly stare. “A bit rough for my tastes, but her red hair is pretty.”
“A redhead, huh?” Robb smirked. “Sounds like a fine piece of ass. I bet the two of you had a fun time in some of the caves North of the Wall.”
“It’s not like that!” He would’ve believed his bastard brother if he wasn’t blushing so much.
“He told me they fucked for the first time in a cave that had hot springs to bathe in.” Samwell Tarly seemed to be a huge gossip, his voice kept intentionally conspiratorial as he spoke.
“Sam!” Jon looked something beyond humiliated. “That was private!”
“What? He’s your brother, ain’t he?”
“I won’t tell.” Robb smiled. “Besides, your oath prevents you from marrying, not other activities.”
Sam nodded. “Indeed. And it’s as Maester Aemon used to say, half the Watch would be executed if we actually cared about the men who snuck out to go to the brothels in Mole’s Town.”
“Exactly.” Robb agreed, much to Jon’s further embarrassment. But rather than focus on embarrassing his brother more, something else was beginning to get his attention. “Does anyone know where Harry is? We’ve been standing in this hall for quite some time.”
“He’s probably occupied.” Sam shifted in place awkwardly. “He has his wedding coming up, and he can take a long time to leave his private chambers sometimes.”
It only took Robb a moment to realize just what Harry was probably up to in that moment.
/////
Hadrian Potter
His fingers curled on Malora’s scalp as the dirty blonde forced herself deeper down his cock.
“That’s it.” He muttered. “Keep going like this and you’ll get your reward.”
She hummed, her enamored gaze meeting his own as her mouth pistoned rhythmically up and down his shaft, lips stretched wide around his girth.
The former Lady of House Hightower had lasted some time before she finally gave in to her own lust. Living in the Hightower with him left her knowing of his various relationships, along with probably hearing him go at it with his girls.
Combine that with a woman like her having no surviving family nor prospects for marriage, led to her eventually coming to him, looking to secure her position at his side. Harry was more than fine with it, taking her on as a glorified servant who would work for his House and continue to live in the lighthouse with him and Arianne.
He still had others, with Val acting as the captain of Oldtown’s City Watch, along with Ashara being Arianne’s handmaiden. Then there were the Red Priestesses, the most influential in the city being Kinvara, with another named Melisandre eventually showing up and joining her.
He wielded the two of them as a way to keep the Faith in line, pretending to be on the side of the Septons as the faith of R’hllor grew larger by the day. All the while the faith of the Old Gods conveniently grew under everyones nose, as Harry brought more Northerners into the city.
“Here it comes.” His grip tightened on her locks, balls thrumming before expelling his load straight into her waiting mouth. “Take it all!”
GLURK GLURK GLURK
Spit and slobber dripped from her stuffed maw as his seed filled her mouth faster than she could swallow it, spilling down onto her outfit and exposed tits below. Harry groaned all the while, before pulling his cock out as his release came to an end and blasting the last few blobs onto her face, coating it.
From there he pulled up his trousers, doing the buttons on his shirt as he walked out of his bedroom and took the lift up, ascending the Hightower to where his solar was.
His private office was a scene reminiscent of Dumbledore’s own office from his previous life, having been located within one of the highest towers in Hogwarts. Much like the Headmaster’s office, Harry’s own was a mess of contraptions and half-finished diagrams and plans. He had utilized his connections at the Citadel heavily, taking in more novices and other learned men to help him with his work.
He had already changed much within the city since his arrival, cleaning up Oldtown’s sewer and creating a trash service to make the city actually smell nice. After spending so much time in King’s Landing, he simply refused to let Oldtown possess the similar terrible stench for the rest of his days.
After that came more projects, such as keeping records on each and every citizen in his territory, the production of the printing press, and the steel plow to help the smallfolk farm their fertile lands.
But beyond that was his most grand ambition. A plan to open a magical academy similar to Hogwarts, with himself as the founder.
Rotating a specific decoration on the side of his desk, a secret drawer within his desk opened to reveal the small amount of parchment that represented what he had achieved so far, being not much. Harry knew it would take time to organize it all to the last detail. Years - maybe even decades - but eventually he would be able begin accepting students and gradually expand from there. And that wasn’t to mention how he could legally pull it off, doing so without riling up the other Lords with rumors of blood magic or vile sorcery.
Luckily, Malora had been quietly helping for the past moon, jumping at the opportunity to learn more magic and spread its secrets across Westeros. Val even had her own input, having witnessed warging many times north of the Wall, along with some woods witches performing their craft. He would be sure to incorporate all of it into his design for a wizarding school, which would accept students from all over the seven Kingdoms.
A knock at the door made him close the drawer, as Harry called for the guard stationed outside to enter.
“My Lord.” The guard bowed. “Lord Stark is here to have an audience, along with Jon Snow and Samwell Tarly.”
“So they got tired of waiting then?” An amused smirk crept up his face, realizing he had been too preoccupied with his own projects to remember to greet Robb and Jon upon their arrival. “Send them in.”
Disclaimer: All Characters are over the Age of 18
A/N: After a lot of thought, I’ve decided NOT to end this story. Initially this started as an epilogue, but it just didn’t feel right to end the story here. That said, the new HP x GOT crossover will still begin soon